I lived in England until I was eleven. The house I lived in was very old, dating back to the era of King Charles I. As the house was so old, it was natural for it to creak and groan. One night, my brother couldn’t sleep. It was late, about 12:30. He went to his window and looked out.
There, on the pavement was a big, black dog. It was looking straight up at my brother. My brother, who must have been about my age at the time, was a bit freaked out. He turned his bedroom light on, to check that it was not just his imagination. When he went back to the window, the dog was gone. Even when my brother stuck his head out of the window and looked down the street, he could not see the dog.
You may think that this was due to him being extremely tired, and hallucinating, but then how can you explain the fact that he saw the dog the following night?
The second experience, my whole family viewed. One night, we were all having supper, when my father noticed someone looking through the window. It was an old lady. She just stood there and stared.
We all looked away, ashamed to stare back, but when we looked again, she had disappeared as the dog had.
I often saw the old lady, she would walk past our house, clutching on to a handle full of glass. My mother’s good friend, who had lived in the village her whole life, said that she thought it was the spirit of an old lady who used to live in the house next door to us. She had been the daughter of the man who founded our village. The founder of the village was not happy, his wife was unfaithful, and had spent all his money. The wife had eventually run off with another man, and he had not heard of her again. He was so depressed that he shot himself, leaving his only daughter with nothing but memories.